i'm on the list

I've decided to tackle one room of our house a week to deep clean and organize. Last week was our master bathroom - and oh, how wonderful it is for that room to be sparkling clean and organized! This week is our master bedroom, which needs more organizing than deep cleaning. I decided to start yesterday with under our bed - which holds all manner of junk. With Jude intently watching, I pulled everything out and started the sorting.

One of the items I pulled out was a bottle of (probably expired) "Off Skintastic." Why would we need Off under our bed, you ask? And I would pretend I didn't hear your question, because I can't imagine why that would be under there, either. Jude was very interested in the bottle, and carried it around with him for the next forty-five minutes. He handed it to me, took it back, threw it on the ground, and pointed to the letters on the front. Harmless, right?

Yeah, until I look over and see that he managed to pop the lid off and had some suspicious white stuff around the corners of his mouth. I rushed to him, took away the bottle of poison, and smelled his breath. Yep. His breath smelled like summer camp, which meant he'd managed to eat some. I quickly scanned the back of the bottle, hoping to read something like, "harmless if ingested. actually, Off has many vitamins and minerals which are good for your child. let them eat the whole bottle."

Alas, I read something along the lines of, "YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PARENT! CALL POISON CONTROL NOW OR YOUR CHILD WILL FOREVER LOATHE YOU!" It really just said something about being harmful if swallowed, and to call poison control, but it may as well have said the former. Hands shaking, I called poison control (we have an emergency page on our fridge with instructions for baby Heimlich, infant CPR, and numbers for several emergency places), and explained my situation. I told the operator that Jude weighed between 20-25 lbs and while I didn't see how much he'd eaten (even WORSE!), I didn't think it was more than a teaspoon. The operator patched me to a nurse, who asked further questions.

The nurse said that since Jude wasn't gagging or vomiting, he didn't ingest enough of it to be dangerous. Phew.

And then...

she asked for Jude's first and last name, my first and last name, and our city and zip code. She was very friendly and nice, but I could just picture her taking a big, fat, red marker and writing my name on a list titled, "Extremely Bad Parents of North Carolina" with a little note next to my name that said, "keep an eye on this one."

About an hour later, I laid Jude down for his first nap of the day and began sewing. He typically naps for about an hour, so I took note when - an hour and a half later - he hadn't woken up. "Woo-ee!" I thought, and happily sewed the crap out of those soaker pads (not literally. i should probably be careful of the colorful language i use when discussing cloth diapers, huh?). Fifteen minutes later, when he was still sleeping, the thought struck me.

Oh gosh. What if he stopped breathing? What if he needs me? What if I've poisoned him?

Of course, I immediately freaked out, stood up, and started towards Jude's room to check on him. And then I heard a sound that usually makes me groan - Jude's just-woke-up-and-the-world-will-surely-end-if-you-don't-come-get-me-right-NOW cry. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, genuinely grateful that he was okay.

So the moral of the story? Don't think your kid won't be able to get the cap off. He's probably a genius and will figure it out and you're name will be put on

...dun dun dun...

The List.